Poetry by Shivangi Shankar K

Art by Nina Sud

If I put together all the scraps of wasted words

I had thrown away,

It'd still make poetry.

For what word isn’t poetic?

What letter doesn’t ring solemn rhythms

In your ears?

What line could possibly leave you bland?

What body is ever too devoid of poetry?

You. Me. Everyone-

All too poetic,

At times without even words to justify.

We’re all poetry,

We’re all words.

We’re all some worlds

Hidden amongst letters.

What more? With the liberty that poetry has,

We might as well choose ways of our own,

Pushing past question marks,

Spelling, pronouncing, arranging us

As we like.